A Long Way Home
by LoveAlltheSherlocks
Summary: One shot. John forgets his shoes and Sherlock must carry him home.


Sherlock burst through the door and sprinted down the hall. John followed close behind, looking back behind him to see the red light blinking faster. There was no way, no way they would make it. He told Sherlock that when he placed it. There was no way-

They were near the end of the hallway now, almost to the front door. Sherlock turned and used his elbow to barge the door open, grabbing John by his arm and pushing him in front of him by nearly five feet. John covered his ears and crouched down. Sherlock was just inside the door-

The sound was deafening. It rumbled and screamed as the explosion made its way to the door almost before Sherlock could reach the road. The windows broke, the door flew past them. Sherlock was thrown forward, landing on his hands. He turned around, one knee on the ground and one foot, coat twirling. He didn't close his eyes once during the whole thing. John didn't understand it. The fire burned his eyes, the smoke was insufferable.

At last it went quiet. John felt Sherlock's hand gently on his back. John nodded to signal he was fine, and without missing a beat, Sherlock ran back to the building and looked inside, grasping the stair rail for balance. He looked up at the rising smoke coming from the roof.

"Seven minutes, at the most," He said, turning around and heading to John. "We need to hurry."

"But Lestrade knows-" John started to get up.

"That doesn't matter. One person leaves their apartment and sees us, we go in the papers, all work abolished." He grabbed John's shoulders to help him up. "Ready then? Catch your breath." He pulled out his mobile.

John took a deep breath. "I'm fine, let's just get back." He tried to get a head start but realizes something.

His foot has stepped into a pile of glass. He realizes something else.

He has no shoes.

Sherlock looks up at John's cry in pain and immediately takes him under his arm. He drags John to the stairs and helps him sit. Sherlock looks down. "…John."

John sighs. "Yes, yes I know." He leans back a bit.

"How did you-"

"I don't know!"

"The disguise wasn't that difficult-"

"Oh, shut up. You gave me five minutes warning that we were blowing up a bloody building." John sighs and wipes the blood off his foot with his jacket sleeve.

Sherlock looked down. "I could run in and-"

"What, steal a dead man's shoes? And be seen? No. I'll….I'll manage." He started to stand.

Sherlock pushed him back down and sighed. "No. The glass will ruin your feet and who knows what's after. It's 12 blocks."

John looks up. "Well? Got a better plan, then?"

"I always do." Sherlock smirks proudly. "I'll carry you."

"What-NO. Don't be-"

"John, the facts are we've just blown up a building and we have to travel twelve blocks in six minutes. Or at least five blocks to be save. That's not going to happen, not without your shoes, anyway, so we can stay here and possibly be arrested or I can carry you. Make a choice." Sherlock pulls his mobile out. "Five minutes."

John sighed. "People will see us."

Sherlock turned around, irritated. "John! I'm not an idiot. I will take back alleys and such. We need to go."

"Fine, fine!" He stood up. "How are you-"

Sherlock stepped in front of him and turned around, slightly crouching. "It'll have to be piggy-back, I can't carry you bridal-style. That's just ridiculous."

John sighed. "As opposed to-"

"JOHN. Get on. We have to leave!"

"Fine, fine," John positioned himself onto Sherlock's back and gripped tight. Sherlock grunted and shifted under the weight before straightening his back. "Ready?"

John laughed. "If you are."

Sherlock stepped forward slowly to gain his footing. After a few more steps he realized it wasn't all that bad. John was fit but not big. His weight was comparable to Sherlock's and naturally because he was smaller his body grooved well with his own. He gained some speed.

One block. Two blocks. It was silent except for Sherlock's huffing and John breathing against his back.

John looked at his watch. "Three minutes."

Sherlock said nothing, only gained more speed. He turned a corner into another alley and paused.

"I swear-" he huffed, "The next time you forget your shoes-" another huff, "I am leaving you."

John laughed as Sherlock started up again, taking deep breaths and making his legs take longer strides-if that was at all possible. They heard sirens in the distance just as the hit the fifth block. Sherlock paused.

"Damn. Do you think-"

John lied. "No, no way. We're fine." He looked around. "Catch your breath; do you want me to get down a sec?"

Sherlock straightened out. "No, no, takes too long. I'll just-"He grips onto John's legs tighter and hoists him higher for leverage. "-fine, all fine"

He gets faster, breathing harder. One more block done, then another. More than halfway through. Sherlock can't help but think he needed to work out. Or eat more? He wasn't sure. But all of a sudden he felt week. His legs trembled.

John leaned forward a bit and gripped his shoulder. "Hey," he said quietly, as if he was comforting a child." I can get down, we're close-"  
>"No, John, I won't have your feet ruined. Just give me a moment."<p>

He straightens and moves on.

Three blocks left. Two. John leans his head down slightly on Sherlock's back. The sirens are flying past them two roads over. Finally, Baker Street. John exhales.

Sherlock slows as he gets closer to the door. John reaches into his pocket to get his key, and hands it down to Sherlock. Sherlock fumbles with it, panting, nearly choking from the pressure of John's arms gripping his neck. He steps inside as John ducks under the door frame.  
>"There." Sherlock says quietly, panting. He crouches down and John slides to the floor, careful not to press his foot too much. He goes to get water.<p>

As soon as he turns the doorway Sherlock drops to the floor, breathing hard. He closes his eyes for a moment and takes deep breathes, trying to calm his heart rate. He is able to stand just as John shows back up with a glass of water for him. He guides him to the couch. "Sit, Sherlock. Jesus."

Sherlock complies, not really thinking. "Who knew 12 blocks would be so far?"

John laughed "I'm so sorry, Sherlock. Really. I don't know how-"

Sherlock interrupted him. "Don't. Not a big deal." He takes a large swig of water and sighs.

John sits next to him and looks to his face. "Lie down, rest."

Sherlock shakes his head. "I'm fine."

"Sherlock." More demand comes from his voice. "Here." He takes a pillow and sets it on his lap. He guides Sherlock's body down. Sherlock pushes the pillow away and rests his head on John's leg. "Fine."

John smiled. He took the glass from Sherlock and set it on the table. His hand rested on Sherlock's side. "Thank you." He whispered.  
>Sherlock made a gesture with his hand as to throw the subject away. He closed his eyes.<p>

"No," John said. "Really…thank you." He leaned his head over and pressed his lips against Sherlock's curls.

Sherlock's eyes widened and then closed again as he smiled.

"I'd do it all over again." He said.

John laughed "I know." He leaned his head on the back of the couch, closing his eyes.

Two minutes later, they were asleep.


End file.
